The Family I Know
by Lil black dog
Summary: There is little I can say about this piece that will not give too much away, except that it represents a profound revelation for Spock.


A/N: There is little I can say about this piece that will not give too much away, except that it represents a profound revelation for Spock.

Beta: As usual, input from Sam Pengraff and T'Paya proved invaluable to this piece.

**The Family I Know**

I am floating in blackness; free, for the first time in weeks. Separate; alone as I have not been for many years now. Instinctively I know this, yet I am at a loss to understand it.

I had grown accustomed to this existence; two who were now one. Accustomed, and yet not comfortable, or content, for we were not inherently compatible; however, given the circumstances, that could not be helped. With so little time available, there had been no other alternative.

I sense the presence of the priestess, serving as the bridge between us, and our consciousnesses are gently being coaxed to separate. As the tendrils of our psyches begin to disengage, one from the other, images are starting to coalesce out of the darkness; images which I am unable to accurately process.

I can feel the cool grass tickling my bare feet as I run with abandon, laughing, breathless, my cousins running alongside me, the warmth of the early summer sun kissing the bare skin of my back and shoulders, the heady scent of wild hydrangeas, honeysuckle and magnolias heavy in my nostrils. The buzz of cicadas, and the ripple of birdsong, combined with the heavy breathing and thunderous footfalls of my companions, reaches my ears. As we approach our objective, the raucous, discordant bellows of bullfrogs abruptly fall silent. We arrive at our destination, and after a few seconds of weightlessness, my arms and legs curled tightly to my core, I land with a resounding splash, the sudden coolness causing me to gasp involuntarily. I hold my breath; it leaves my lungs with explosive force as my head pops above the water, rivulets streaming into my eyes and running off my nose. I shake my head and look around me. My cousins have surfaced beside me, playfully splashing and frolicking in the deep, cool pond. My soul is light, unfettered, and I am happy, free from care….

These memories merge, shimmer, vanish into a mirage of searing heat; reform into an arid, desolate landscape, the hot, dry air scorching my lungs. The mood here is different; the climate, both physical and emotional, is but a pale shadow of that in which I found myself only seconds before. I can feel the red sand shifting beneath my feet as I trudge through the early morning heat, alone, following the narrow path through the mountains that leads to the one place where I feel at peace, far removed from the pressures of my everyday life. I know there will be consequences for my actions, but at the moment the prospect of punishment does not concern me. It will be days before I am forced to face the repercussions of my recklessness. As I have been taught, I shall 'cross that bridge when I come to it.'

Suddenly, I am wrenched unceremoniously into the present. It is done; we are once again two separate beings. I feel myself slide into a shell of flesh, my lungs expanding, my pulse throbbing in my ears, chants and incantations spoken in an ancient tongue, carried along by the eddies of the wind, swirling softly about me.

A tingling begins deep within the recesses of my mind. A presence slips in, warm, inviting, as if it has always been there and always will. An ethereal face begins to solidify out of the darkness: A strong jaw line, a lopsided grin, a lock of hair, stubbornly refusing to be tamed, falling across a high forehead. Warm, mischievous hazel eyes meet mine, smiling, saying so much without uttering a word. Instantly I feel acceptance, security, a sense of belonging. I know this face. I struggle to remember, but with a single-minded determination, the exact identity continues to elude me.

Just as quickly as it materialized, this fleeting image fades, to be replaced by another: An older, finely chiseled visage with dark, penetrating eyes. The chocolate brown orbs flash with displeasure; convey a stern disapproval which the neutral facial expression cannot. Again, no words are spoken, but the tension is palpable, the disappointment in me evident in the set of the jaw, the cant of the bushy, upswept eyebrows, the furrowed forehead. Somehow, I am aware that for most of my life, in stark contrast to the other, this individual often displayed nothing but reproach where I was concerned. I know this face, too. Both have meaning for me, but as of yet, I am unable to grasp their significance.

Strong arms help me to stand on shaky legs, remove my dirty, stained clothing, replacing it with a soft, thick robe. Despite the all-encompassing heat, a shudder passes through me. A hood is pulled over my head and I am gently turned; escorted down a set of stairs. I do not know where I am being taken, or why, but know unerringly that this is my destiny. I must do this.

There are many onlookers along the path. Most dip their heads in acknowledgment, but I am struck by a small group of seven, dressed differently from the others, obviously not of the same species, save for one individual. Unlike the others around me, strong emotions are radiating from this group: fear, concern, worry, relief, and uncertainty override a myriad of others. Yet one voice seems to be more prevalent than the others. From this particular being I sense camaraderie, unconditional support, brotherhood, a bond between us for which there is no name. As I approach closer, the tingling sensation in my mind grows ever stronger. The force of it causes me to halt involuntarily in my tracks.

Once again, I am accosted by a kaleidoscope of incoherent memories: A young, smiling face, with angled brows, a delicate cant to the ears, unruly, dark hair; a subtle, greenish complexion. _My brother_ – the thought surfaces spontaneously out of the recesses of my mind. As before, this vision quickly fades, to be replaced by another: A different young, smiling face, this one with rounded brows and ears, eyes that twinkle and laugh, and seem to peer into the very depths of my soul. That discerning gaze causes my heart to skip a beat. With unshakable certainty I realize that in another time, another life, I was unable to refuse him anything. _My brother_ my mind supplies in this instance as well, but surely this cannot be; their appearances are too different for them to be of the same lineage. Confusion engulfs me.

I lower the hood about my face and approach the tight knot of strangers. They are all staring at me, watching me intently, their discomfiture evident, tangible. I see them all, but not as they are now. My vision is assaulted by younger versions of those in question, dressed in bright colors. My mind conjures up a number of scenarios: smiling, grim; laughing, crying; overjoyed, angry; relaxing during their leisure time, busy at their work. _Family_ is the word that comes to mind, but that word sparks the appearance of another set of faces: A soft, gentle one, with tender, blue eyes that try but often fail to hide the pain behind them where I am concerned; the stern, unfeeling face from earlier, and the smiling youth with the pointed ears. Lastly, a shaggy behemoth with long, brown fur and a sad, compassionate gaze, forms out of the murky depths. Comprehension dawns instantly; this is the family of my flesh; the companion of my youth.

Yet somehow, the family I have is not the family I know. These faces may represent the family that gave me life, nurtured me as a child, but it is this 'other family' that taught me how to live. Taught me the importance of belonging, and acceptance, of mutual concern, loyalty, and sacrifice, and I find myself irresistibly drawn to them. They are the family of my heart.

I glance at each in turn, and I see recognition, and relief there. Finally my eyes come to rest on the last one, who is standing slightly apart from the others, and with a jolt, I realize I am face to face with my 'brother.'

We exchange a few words, and I turn to leave, when I find myself overwhelmed by a memory. I face him once again. "I have been, and ever shall be, your friend." The sentiment spills forth from my lips unbidden.

"Yes. _Yes_, Spock," he assures me emphatically.

Seeing him triggers another set of images, but they are incomplete, obscure, vapid, and I am consumed by apprehension; apprehension for those I recognize as my family. I hear myself ask him, "The ship, out of danger?" without fully comprehending the reasoning behind my words.

"You saved the ship. You saved us all. Don't you _remember_?" he responds in a voice heavy with despair.

This produces an unexplained pain deep within me. Subconsciously, I know I have always endeavored to avoid disappointing this man. I fight to summon up something – anything – which will erase the look of anguish currently marring his features. Unexpectedly, recognition washes over me like the intense sunlight which heralds the coming dawn: "Jim. Your _name…_ is Jim," I tell him with certainty. I am rewarded with a smile, one that produces another, unnamable feeling within me, and I know that I am home, that, in time, all will eventually be as it was; as it should be….

oooOOOooo

A/N: For those who are not aware, this story is a look at Spock's jumbled thoughts during and after the Fal-tor-pan ceremony at the end of 'The Search for Spock.' Inspiration for this piece was drawn from the song 'Everything That I Am' by Phil Collins, and from the free write at Ad Astra entitled 'All You Need is Love.' Many excellent versions of the song are available on youtube.


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